Review: ‘Kidnapping Mr. Heineken’ With Anthony Hopkins, Sam Worthington, Jim Sturgess, Ryan Kwanten, And More

Directed by Daniel Alfredson, who for a brief moment had some cachet thanks to "The Girl Who Played with Fire" and "The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest," and penned by William Brookfield whose last producer credit was over a decade ago on a thriller called "Hypnotic," the problem of the film’s predictable execution lies in both of their hands. Even with a cast of players game to have some fun with such a freewheeling premise, Alfredson is so caught up in the mechanics of the criminal scheme, it results in there being little excitement or dramatic tension in watching it come together and eventually come apart. But he’s not helped by what appears to be a meager script by Brookfield who presents a handful of wholly one dimensional characters, and more importantly, does little to convey the monumental nature of the crime. They managed to pull off the job (after a few failed attempts which this film glosses over) so smoothly that law enforcement believed it was an organized terrorist group behind the action. However, with the screenplay focused on the shifting dynamics of those within the group after the kidnapping starts stretching to weeks in length instead of a few days like the group had hoped, it eliminates crucial social context that would’ve brought much needed texture to the story. This was an act that dominated global headlines, but there’s no sense of the media’s perspective on the case except in a most cursory manner, or what the authorities were doing to try and find a high-profile figure with 35 million Dutch gilders put on his head.

And so, we’re left with the ensemble, and they’re not that interesting a bunch to spend time with. Willem is the brasher hothead of the group, Cor and Jan are the interchangeable sensitive ones who have families at home to care for, while Frans mostly looks after his own interests. The group’s fifth member Martin ‘Brakes’ Erkamps (Thomas Cocquerel) takes the role of the young kid in a situation that’s way over his head, and he’s looked over with paternal care by Jan. And the actors all play their roles adequately, even if you get the sense everyone was aching for more to do than just simply hit the marks they’re given. But not surprisingly, it’s veteran Anthony Hopkins who decides to add some color, as misguided as his attempts are. His Freddy Heineken first tries to play mind games with Martin who is tasked with the grunt work of giving Freddy and his fragile driver Ab Doderer (David Dencik) their meals. And later, partially due to the cabin fever of being locked in a makeshift cell, and partially due to Hopkins trying to relieve his own boredom, he starts chewing the scenery in a manner that would be better suited to Hannibal Lecter, but is at least a welcome distraction.

However, it’s only when the film ends after a scant, less-than-ninety-minute runtime, that it finally becomes clear why "Kidnapping Mr. Heineken" fails to get you buzzed. Just before the credits roll, we learn that two members of the team would later become the "Godfathers of the Netherlands," which is a fascinating piece of trivia. But watching the film, you never get any sense of the criminal ingenuity they would later put to grander use. Yes, they executed the Heineken kidnapping nearly flawlessly before it went all wrong, but the movie wants to admire the panache with which they dove into the endeavor without idolizing them. It is a tricky balance to achieve, and it’s one that Alfredson never quite manages. At times the filmmaker wants us to sympathize with their desire to just get the money, get away, and live the comfortable life we all can relate to dreaming about. But as the movie shifts into the third act, that humanizing approach slowly recedes as the net closes in. And the effect isn’t so much jumbled as deadening. In a movie that’s already one dimensional, the more it pulls away from the complexity of these flawed individuals and the themes of class divide (Willem’s father used to work for Heineken before being laid off), the more routine it all becomes.

And "routine" is not the word you want to describe a film that portrays a crime that, at the time, netted the largest single ransom payout in history. It was an astonishing feat, but "Kidnapping Mr. Heineken" never conveys how a bunch of working stiffs transformed themselves into a coiled — if scrappy and ragtag — criminal operation. Too content with skipping ahead to show us how it was done, "Kidnapping Mr. Heineken" would’ve benefited from having more time to brew. [C-]